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“ A re you an experienced dancer?” William asked his wife as he led her out onto the dance floor.

In answer, Arabella laughed.

He loved it when he could make her laugh. He loved the way mirth seemed to spread throughout her whole body, the way it lightened her features so that she looked as if nothing in life had ever troubled her. It made him yearn to pull her closer, to feel that laugh against his own body.

Madness. He was going to have to find a way to move beyond these feelings he harbored for her—he couldn’t allow them to continue to take root in his heart.

He couldn’t allow his entire mental state to swing with her moods.

There wasn’t going to be anything of substance between the two of them, and he knew it, so he couldn’t get caught up in fantasies about that.

But it was difficult. Standing here on the dance floor, holding her in his arms, seeing how beautiful she looked in the gown he had chosen for her, it was hard to remember that he had never wanted this to be anything more than a marriage for appearances’ sake.

As the music swelled, he moved into the steps of the dance. She hadn’t answered his question about her abilities, and he was gratified to see that she was able to keep up with him easily. “I guess you are experienced at this,” he commented.

“Oh, not remotely,” she said, laughing again. “Truly, I haven’t the slightest idea what I’m doing.”

“But it seems to come so easily to you.”

“My sisters and I used to practice together in our room when we were growing up. When we were young it was all in fun, of course, but then when Father came into his title, we practiced for the balls we thought we would one day attend. We didn’t know then that our family would be so entirely shut out of society events that we wouldn’t have a hope of dancing with gentlemen at balls.

It’s something I’ve never done as a matter of fact. ”

“You’ve never danced at a ball?”

“Not until now. Who would dance with me?” She smiled, but he didn’t think it was very funny.

“Remember, I was always dressed in out-of-date clothes that looked as if they were about to fall apart. And no one ever cared for impressing my father or earning his favor by paying attention to his daughters. I would have been the very last to garner any attention at a ball. If any focus did come my family’s way, I immediately deflected it to my sisters, for it was more important to me to see them get the attention of a gentleman than it was to get that attention for myself. ”

“That’s very caring of you,” William said.

“It’s just the responsibility I have to my siblings,” she explained. “Duty to family means everything to me.”

“I admit I can’t relate to that feeling,” William said.

“No?”

“Well, I don’t have any siblings myself, so I never felt the need to care for or protect anybody like that. There are my cousins, of course, but you’ve seen what they’re like. You can understand why I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to worry about their well-being.”

“Of course,” Arabella murmured.

But she didn’t meet his eyes when she said it.

She turned her head slightly away from him, as if there was something that, in fact, she didn’t understand.

As if the topic of conversation had become unsavory to her somehow.

He wondered why—but it made sense, he supposed.

Beatrice and Grace had never been warm or welcoming toward her, so of course she wouldn’t want to spend time talking about them.

He cleared his throat, regretting the fact that he had soured her evening by bringing them up at all. “As a matter of fact,” he said, hoping to distract her from that unpleasantness, “I spent a great deal of my youth fighting against my family’s wishes and expectations for me.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Did you?”

“Oh, I’ve never liked the rigors of society,” he said. “The things we’re expected to do as members of the ton.”

“Do you face many such expectations?”

“More than you would think,” he said. “I know that you felt I was at liberty to walk away after our little scandal in the library.”

“You were, weren’t you?”

“In a sense. I wouldn’t have been ruined by it in the same way you would have, that much is true.

That doesn’t mean that there weren’t expectations for me.

The one thing I’ve been told throughout my life is that I must marry, that it is my duty as my father’s heir to do so.

What meant the most to him was our family’s legacy, you see. ”

“Well, you can’t expect me to believe you chose to marry me for that reason,” Arabella said.

“You think not?”

“One of the first things you and I agreed upon was that there would be no need for an heir,” she reminded him. She lowered her voice as she said it. He had to lean in to hear her, and at first he didn’t understand why she was speaking in such low tones—and then, all of a sudden, he did.

His heart nearly burst with sudden warmth.

She was keeping her voice low in case he didn’t want these words to be overheard. In case he wanted to be private about the fact that he wasn’t seeking an heir.

It was astonishingly thoughtful of her.

Or maybe it wasn’t so astonishing. Maybe this was just the way people treated one another when they truly cared. It wasn’t hard to imagine her being this kind to one of her sisters after all. Maybe this was just who Arabella was.

If that was so, he was lucky to have her as his wife.

He turned her in his arms, guiding her away from the throng of dancers so that the two of them could speak without fear of being overheard.

“You’re right,” he said, keeping his voice low just as she had—but a little bit louder now, so that they could at least hear one another without strain. “I did agree to that.”

“Why, if what’s most important to you is living up to your family’s expectations?”

“Well, it’s as I told you,” he explained.

“I’ve never cared for those expectations.

I’ve never had any patience for them. And I’ve always resented the fact that they were so important to my father.

To him, what mattered most, always, was his title and his legacy and his reputation.

He cared for those things more than he cared for me—his own son. ”

“Sometimes I wonder whether the same thing is true of my parents,” Arabella said.

“If I had had an elder sibling like you, someone who had showed me that they cared for me and my interests, things might have been different,” William said.

“Things might have been better. I would have loved to grow up knowing that there was someone who cared for my happiness. I see the way you are with your sisters, and I wish I had had that in my youth. They are very lucky to have you.”

Her cheeks pinkened. “That’s kind of you to say.”

“It’s the truth. Your sisters are very fortunate.

” He hesitated. “You know, most of my memories of my youth have to do with not being enough for my parents. Not being good enough or living up to their expectations in some way. And when I look back now, the things I did that had me falling short were such normal things. Childish things that any young boy might have done.”

“Like what?” Arabella asked him.

He was surprised to find that he yearned to go on opening up to her.

“Our stablehand had a son of about my age,” he said.

“He was the only other child I saw on a regular basis since I had no siblings, and I used to flee the house often for a chance to go and play with him. I’d come in after a day of fun, and my father would be in such a rage with me for daring to associate with a commoner.

With the son of a servant. He strike me whenever he caught me doing that. ”

Arabella gasped. “How awful,” she murmured. “Things were often hard between my parents and my sisters and I, but even when times were at their worst, they never struck us.”

“I’m glad to know it,” William said. “I wouldn’t wish it upon you.

And… well, I wouldn’t like you to worry.

It was a long time ago.” He felt insecure suddenly—deeply vulnerable over what he had shared.

He wished he hadn’t told her. Why hadn’t he been able to stop himself from telling her?

Why had he felt so compelled to open up to her all of a sudden?

It was unusual for him to feel anything like that.

The music came to an end, and he dropped her hands. “This was pleasant,” he said. “I should go make the rounds—socialize with some people.”

“Do you want me to join you?” She sounded uneasy. Was that because she wanted to come with him or because she didn’t?

It didn’t change his answer, regardless of what she meant.

He needed a moment to himself. He needed to put some distance between the two of them, so he could cope with the fact that he had opened up to her in a way he hadn’t done with anybody new in years.

“You go find a drink,” he told her. “Someone to talk to, perhaps. I’ll be back to collect you before too long. ”

He turned and walked away before she could say anything else—before she could argue or indicate that she didn’t want him to go.

He wouldn’t be able to refuse her if she asked him to stay, but truly, he needed this time on his own.

He needed to be away from her for a few minutes to try to figure out what had just happened and why.

It wasn’t just that he had slipped and told her how he felt about the ton, the demands of society.

That wasn’t a very closely guarded secret.

She probably could have figured it out for herself even if he had never said anything.

It wasn’t even that he had told her about his father’s demands on him although that was something he spoke about somewhat less.

He wasn’t embarrassed about that, really.

But why had he told her that his father had struck him? He never spoke to anyone about that . It made him feel weak and small in a way he hadn’t since childhood. He did his best to forget all about it.

And yet, when he had been talking to Arabella just now, it had spilled out as easily as if he had been thinking his own private thoughts. More easily, in fact, because that was something he did his best not to spend time thinking about if he could help it.

He couldn’t take it back. He had said the words aloud, and now she knew.

He went to the table where drinks were being served, picked one up, and finished half of it in a single swallow.

Then he leaned against the wall and surveyed the room, hoping that no one would see him standing here.

That no one would come over and insist on conversation about his recent marriage, demand to know why it had happened so quickly, give him knowing looks, and refer askance to the scandal between Arabella and himself.

He wished he hadn’t come here tonight.

But if he hadn’t, he would have been on his own at home with Arabella, and if he was truly honest with himself, he didn’t think that would have been any easier.